


Secrets

by PettankoMoe



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/F, Lemon, Modern AU, Romance, Sensuality, Two Shot, Yumikuri AU, Yuri, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:16:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1734146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PettankoMoe/pseuds/PettankoMoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 1 of 2</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets

Ymir had not seen this coming…

She was a twenty-two year old woman with a shit past and naturally shitty luck. Did her troubled youth prepare her for a night where she narrowly escaped a bullet in the chest by the skin of her teeth? Against popular belief, it absolutely did not! All the shoplifting, breaking and entering, school brawls, and fence-hopping taught her was how important it was to learn not to get caught. Did anyone’s life give them foresight to avoid being a body in the streets? Ymir didn’t think so. No one was granted the ability to make their lives work in their favor. There wasn’t a magic button to push to reveal every scene meant to happen. Some people saw life as an easy concept to understand. “Depending on someone’s birth, they were free from abuse, discrimination, family issues, and financial problems…” Yeah, Ymir wasn’t dumb to think she was immune from being a murder victim because she was minding her own business while on a date. She still wasn’t expecting bullets to fly in the dead of night…in a damn empty PARK. If she did, she would’ve worn her running shoes.

She thought the universe was aligning her stars in her favor. She found a nice apartment with a decent rent. The neighbors were civilized to the point Ymir wasn’t talking herself down from tossing herself off a fire escape. At the start of the year, Ymir earned a promotion at work. (It was more of her receiving compliments from her peers at the auto repair shop than a promotion; but to her, it was a promotion!) She even met a hot blonde who was single and a lesbian! Hell, the way Christa accepted Ymir’s advances and humored Ymir’s silly jokes stroked the mechanic’s ego. Very few women did it with grace and stride like the beautiful maiden who glued herself to Ymir since the first night they shared drinks. Good fortune seemed to be moving Ymir in a positive direction.

She was satisfied with the place she slept every night. She loved her job. Fellow mechanics at her job was inviting her to the local sports bar in town for drinks and pool. The greatest reason for her to be pleased with life was Christa.

Christa…

They knew each other a little over a month, and even though Ymir wasn’t planning on hijacking a chapel to marry Christa, there was so much about the blonde Ymir adored! Christa was a short. She wasn’t ordinary short either. Christa’s shortness created the most adorable height difference that it should be a damn crime. Standing next to her miniature date confused Ymir’s insides. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to throw Christa into her arms and nuzzle her neck squealing over her shortness or to stab herself with a million pins to see if she was dreaming when she first laid eyes on the woman outside of the dim light of a sports bar. Ymir loved the way Christa’s long blonde lashes fluttered whenever she blinked. The shade of blue of the fairer woman’s eyes was complemented by the color of her hair that Ymir bet was finer than spun gold. Christa was sweet, punctual, compassionate. And when she said Ymir’s name in that innocent tone of voice…

Even thinking about the woman’s voice aroused Ymir.

Oh how freely, she fantasized about how sharp Christa’s voice would get as Ymir sunk her teeth into the side of her neck… Oh how fulfilled, Ymir would feel with every imagined second of her lips trailing down Christa’s flat stomach towards her panty line… Oh how sweet Christa would moan “Ymir” as Ymir’s teeth and tongue grew acquainted with her lovely inner thighs before letting her tongue acquaint itself with Christa’s erect clit and labia…

By Ymir’s standards, Christa was perfection! She was a goddess incarnate!

Despite how much her mind and her body ached for Christa, intuition told Ymir there was more to Christa than her pretty face. There was a glint Ymir noticed resided in Christa’s eyes. It was subtle, but it bothered Ymir. She couldn’t put her finger on why Ymir was intimidated by Christa every so often. She used to believe the glint was hidden dominance lurking inside Christa. Ymir was the dominant one in her relationships. If Christa challenged Ymir in the role of masculinity, there wouldn’t have been any other outings between them. Oh rather, Ymir liked to tell herself this. She had her reputation as a stud to uphold. People would laugh if a 5’7”/170 cm lean tomboy was the one catered to by a feminine doll who couldn’t be more than a feet (about 30 cm) shorter. Ymir couldn’t have any of those taunts on her ass. The perceived nature Ymir feared never manifested in any of their dates. Because of this, all thoughts of Christa treating her “too sweetly” were pushed in the back of Ymir’s mind. The thoughts wanting to figure out what kind of person Christa was resurfaced moments after the pair escaped the arms of death.

"…Are you feeling okay, Ymir? You didn’t get injured during the shoot out, did you?"

Ymir blinked as she heard Christa’s voice drawing her from her racing thoughts. She looked at the younger woman dressed in a simple white camisole and panties with ember eyes still glossy in thought. The scent of dove bodywash reminded Ymir of Christa’s announcement to take a shower after the random men left the penthouse to the two women. She was at Christa’s residence for the first time. If she had a different mind, she would have been in a childish awe at its lavish interior. Tonight brought far more excitement than Ymir enjoyed.

"Ymir?" Christa called again from behind the coffee table.

Ymir rolled her shoulders and groaned in pleasure at the relieving popping sound generated. She scooted more leftward to alleviate herself from the middle of the first and second couch cushions. “Yeah, I’m okay.” She said. “Are you okay, Christa?”

The blonde appeared to cringe slightly at her question being turned back to her. She averted her gaze skyward, causing Ymir to grow curious about what was going through Christa’s head at the moment. With the lighting in the living room and her height advantage, Ymir didn’t see a light. What she saw was dimness. The exact same dimness in Christa’s eyes when a blonde man brought them here… The exact same dimness Ymir saw every time she looked in a mirror…

"I’m alright," she lied, returning eye contact with Ymir.

Christa strolled over to the couch and calmly assumed a seat beside the mechanic. “I’m alright.” She stated again after a beat.

Ymir eyes narrowed in total disbelief. The tension in the household was so thick winning ten billion dollars wouldn’t deplete the negative energy. The way Christa acted as if in a stupor while she directed her hands to rest in her lap as she tucked her bare feet under her didn’t feel like it was what someone with a sense of purpose would do. Ymir leered at the mysterious woman a few beats longer until Christa decided to speak. She must know Ymir wanted answers as soon as possible.

"My name is Historia Reiss. My father is a mafia boss with territory all over the country. The Reiss family has been part of a crime ring for generations. We are known for betraying men and organizing the assassinations of people who may pose as a threat to our world. Because of my family, I have been on hit lists since I was conceived. I recently moved here two months ago in order to hide from my past and to wipe the blood off of my hands. I wanted to start over as an adult, so I adopted the alias Christa Renz.’

'My father's connections helped produce legal papers and my false identity in order to hide myself. Unfortunately, my misdeeds have started to catch up with me faster than I thought…” Christa sighed.

Ymir frowned as her ears perked up at a hint of dark undertones. Christa was a mafia boss’s daughter… It explained the gunfire directed at them during their date at the park. Whoever the Reiss family fucked up must be out for their heads if men would follow Christa on their own. Ymir knew what she should not do in order to continue living; she wouldn’t want to be sent to see with a rope holding a cement block to her ankles if she didn’t end her relationship with Christa on a good note—that is if she was breaking up with Christa. Ymir normally hated when people weren’t upfront with her about everything. In Christa (or Historia’s case), her deceit was more justifiable.

Historia accepted her life, but it was a grim acceptance in Ymir’s opinion. Historia’s body language didn’t show the animation of someone genuinely excited about her sordid hand. There was the chance Historia was a good actress if she was able to hold a role for two months. If Historia didn’t look so vulnerable huddled in herself sitting with her body pressed tightly against the right arm of her couch, Ymir might have wondered if Historia lied to her about her feelings.

"I-I’m sorry for lying to you…" Historia’s apology sounded saturated in hurt and in moments, Ymir could see the anguish written on Historia’s face. Seeing the trembling lips Ymir dreamed of kissing caused a merciless knot to twist in her stomach. She inched her way to the edge of the couch cushion waiting for the first tears to fall so she could envelope the blonde in a hug, but Historia’s eyes stayed dry.

"Your lie was to save your ass." Ymir adjusted herself to sit correctly in her seat after her anti-climatic wait. "I’m not going to stop seeing Christa Renz because she’s secretly a mafia princess—"

"—What if I killed people?" Historia retorted quickly. Her composed frame quivered with emotion as all of her weight was placed on her left side. The audible shakiness in Historia’s voice was evidence on her own.

Ymir smirked briefly to herself and stared deeply in Historia’s eyes that seemed to be searching for confirmation. “You don’t seem like you would kill anyone maliciously. You would instantly regret bringing harm to another human being.”

After Ymir’s words reached the latter, Historia resumed her calm demeanor with her hands in her lap and faced Ymir straight-forward. “Why do you think I’m incapable of taking life without self-defense? Why don’t you be wary of what I’ve drawn you into by saying who I am and what is going on? Why don’t you,” Historia inhaled anxiously through her parted mouth, “hate me because your life may be gone in the process?”

"Everyone has to die someday…"

Ymir turned her body towards Historia’s and closed few centimetres distance between them. The dull knot she had been ignoring since the day of their first encounter reared its ugly head. She cleared her throat as if she could dispel the years of turmoil sticking to the knot like a magnet which grew by the second. Her conscious mind pleaded with her subconscious self to refute manipulation into making Ymir tell her private secrets. The freckled woman never talked about herself to another living soul. She could never let her real self lie naked in front of anyone again. Still, she clutched on the idea of returning favors since she left that wretched place…

"When I was a child, I was self-destructive, not like "consume everything sugary every five seconds" or "stay up past my bedtime"…" Ymir dismissed her failure at lightening the air and coursed onward. "My parents growing up, so I thought if I threw myself into crazy shit they would notice me. It started with shoplifting at small stores in order to get caught by someone. Then, I moved up to bigger stores. Before long, I was breaking and entering houses and buildings I had no business being in. I would skip school during recess and acted out in class in order to be punished. The visits from the police started adding up. And then, the verbal abuse,the beatings and neglect became more severe…" She hastily continued in order to save her mind from venturing through the volumes of child abuse. She changed the subject.

"I was twelve…a stupid naive twelve year old… My dad stormed out of the house furious about my mom about something—I forgot what it was—and I had the bright idea to set fire to the house with my mom inside then call my dad to save her…" Ymir’s soul cringed at the memories of the house ablaze while her mother burned to death in the bathroom. The window was too narrow for anyone to squeeze out. The worse part was her father never answered or rushed to the house to see if Ymir or his wife was alright. The man committed suicide in a motel room. It was soon after Ymir bounced from foster home to foster home with her secrets in tow.

The knot felt lighter in Ymir’s chest, but it remained. It will always remain until the day Ymir died. Regret… She promised herself after the night of the fire that she wouldn’t hold her “what ifs” and feel sorry for herself anymore. It was nearly a decade of masking her personal faults for her to follow the method of indifference. She accepted there was nothing she can do to change what she did in her past other than living and learning from her mistakes.

Her eyes focused on Historia’s posture and widened slightly at how close made herself during Ymir’s declaration. Ymir fought the urge to flinch from surprise as Historia was now centimeters from Ymir’s lap.

"Why would anyone not love you? I don’t understand." Still fresh with dejection in her eyes, Historia shook her head in disbelief. "You’re beautiful, Ymir. You are also very strong for overcoming your trying childhood. I would be lucky if I was able to not let any of what you went through get to me." Historia smiled genuinely at the mechanic before letting herself lay her head on Ymir’s shoulder affectionately.

Ymir smiled through the stifling heat of her blush caressing her cheeks. She was not use to compliments. They were still foreign to her ears making it difficult for her to take a full truth, especially since she didn’t feel like she was the strongest person in the room. “You’re far stronger than I am, Historia…”

Historia glanced up at Ymir from her spot in confusion and moved off of her leaner confidant. The doubt shrouding Historia’s face was the catalyst that set everything in motion. Without uttering another word, Ymir leaned her head downward and with with a compassionate hand tilted Historia’s chin towards upwards. Their eyes exchanging deep wishes in the electrified the frivolous knot In Ymir’s chest into a blazing fire. Within the silence of their unspoken words, Ymir saw it. The glint in her fair lover’s baby-blues was more luminous than anything Ymir has ever seen. How she reflected in Historia’s eyes as she looked back at her with the coy knowing smile of hers told Ymir all she needed to know. Now that she knew the real Historia, Ymir wasn’t about to let the woman go. Historia didn’t shove Ymir in a corner for her weakness. Historia wasn’t about to claim she was holier than Ymir or what Ymir went through was foolish compared to her. Historia didn’t see Ymir as a sub-human. Historia comforted her. Historia cared about her. Historia wasn’t about to go anywhere. Historia’s benevolence was too good for her! Without wasting another thought, Ymir captured Historia’s lips in hers.

The connection between their lips was generous, subtle, yet intense. This kiss was not like the ones shared in the past.There were no barriers restricting the intimate energies to one static plane. Through Historia’s arms draping around Ymir’s neck, Ymir felt secure and protected. Through Historia’s soft breaths against her skin, Ymir drifted further in love with Historia. Through the in-sync union of lips and tongues, Ymir knew this was no fantasy. There was still remnants of mouthwash lurking on her lover’s tongue, entrapping Ymir with a need to taste every corner. Historia tasted sweeter than pure ambrosia since their kiss last weekend.

The tension cast about the room dissipated, as the women separated to catch their breaths, and cloaked the women in a sultry veil of lust. Historia’s arms hung loosely off Ymir’s shoulders as their noses brushed against each others. Ymir’s lips quirked in a sly smile suddenly conscious of the arousal between her legs. The kiss attracted sensitivity without Ymir aware. Her ears burned from Historia’s soft enticing pants. Her heart sped faster than the mightiest bullet train from their shared placidity. Her mouth watered for the intimacy unlocking Ymir’s carnal pinning. The temperature of her skin flared from the cool air sweeping against her cheek. Ymir was growing hotter by the second.

Historia headed the next communion of lips bringing their closeness again. Feverish and hunger, the second kiss escalated into an erotic war. Casual inhibitions faltered in the chorus of groans and gasps. Ymir’s fingers curled in blonde damp strands causally twisting tugging the locks of her beloved creating halted breathes and aggressive mewls. The scent of Historia’s soap teased Ymir’s nose with its femininity. The animal in Ymir awakened in the hazy plane at the thought of sending Historia into a frenzy.

“Off,” Historia moaned, tugging roughly on Ymir’s cotton shirt.

Still lost in lust, Ymir happily shed her shirt revealing the sports bra underneath.

"Let’s go back to my room." Historia suggested as she rose from the couch. Conditioned to know the hidden meaning to the phrase, Ymir’s clit throbbed in her boyshorts.

She watched Historia’s hips sway invitingly as the woman strutted in the direction of her room. Ymir could tell the panties were clinging to Historia tighter. Envisioning how wet her little lover must be, Ymir licked her lips. She was so close to tasting how good her darling was underneath. The mechanic moaned with a shudder at the thought. Like a doting puppy, she trailed behind Historia, peeling off her clothing until she was down to her boyshorts and bra. As her bare feet touched down on the plush carpet in Historia’s room, Ymir internally glowed with pride.

Maybe her luck wasn’t shitty after all.


End file.
